


Nothing to Fear

by eringilbert



Category: Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Demonic Possession, Multi, also prepare for a lot of appearances of characters with different names, basically they're all members of a church and the devil wrecks havoc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eringilbert/pseuds/eringilbert
Summary: In the sleepy town of Carey, Ohio, the Church of Christ Universal lays abandoned. Torn apart. Decaying. However, the story of how it got to be so decrepit is perhaps more mysterious than the church's exterior.On a cold and dreary day in 1923, Father Albert Caine thought that he was being a Good Samaritan by deciding to take care of a sickly man. Turns out he unknowingly invited the greatest evil mankind has ever seen, as well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I kinda thought of this over the course of a day and QUICKLY became obsessed with this idea. And as I'm currently suffering a writer's block with my other fic in this fandom (White Blank Page), I figured I might as well start writing this to potentially get some ideas.
> 
> This chapter is really short because idk how to write introductions, especially for this story. So, I'm sorry! I promise it'll pick up.
> 
> Per usual, I own nothing besides OCs.

Father Albert was proud of his Church.

He built it after he and his adopted daughter Cynthia moved to this town. Cynthia was to be nearly 13 now, and she was already bestowed with a gift for scriptures and hymns. He couldn’t have asked for a better child to call his own. Father Albert couldn’t ask for a better town to be in, as well. The town greeted him with open arms, and soon many people flocked from nearby towns to join in on their worships. He was expecting backlash and confusion, due to the fact that Cynthia was legally his daughter, but it turned out to be a rather refreshing change in the status quo.

He thought about his apparent luckiness as he sipped his coffee. The birds chirped and the sun began to rise from its slumber. Out in the distance, he could see a tall, heavily clothed figure bent down into the grass. It appeared to be wearing a habit. _Ah, so it is a member of Mother Elisabeth’s covenant_ , he thought. It made sense, as the elderly nun told Father Albert that they were experiencing a shortage on seeds for crops and had sent out some of her sisters to fetch some more. If he thought he was crazy, he would’ve thought that the sister had heard his thoughts. However, it was perhaps simply a coincidence that she turned over and smiled at him. She gave a slow wave, to which Father Albert waved back. Although they were far away, he could tell that she was a young woman with piercing green eyes.

“GOOD GOD EDDIE, CAN YOU GO A LITTLE FASTER? I SEE A HOUSE OR SUMTHIN’!”

The screaming and blasphemy towards God was enough to snap Father Albert out of his thoughts, enough for him to set his coffee down. It sounded like a man in dire pain, someone who needed his help. The sister and the Father looked at each other with confused facial expressions before setting off and attempting to locate the man. By the time the older man had reached the spot where the sister stood, he could make out two shapes. One was a hulking figure of a man, the other a slimmer man whose arm was draped over the larger. “Stay here,” he told the sister.

“GENTLEMEN! GENTLEMEN!” Father Albert cried out. He ran closer to the two companions until he finally found himself face to face with them. Well, at least the smaller of the two. “M-my name is F-Father Albert Caine, I run the Church of Christ Uni-”

The smaller man laughed a ear-piercing laugh before coughing up some blood. He seemed completely unbothered by this, as he continued to say “A man of God, huh? Well, sir, if you’re so helpful and pure, why don’t ya offer my brother and I-” he was interrupted by more coughing “a place to stay tonight, huh?” By this point, they were almost at the Church. It would be rather foolish to refuse them, especially since the man, as rude as he was, was clearly suffering. Father Albert reached out a hand before asking “Of course, Mister?”

The man smirked and said “Mista John Schmidt. This is my lil brother, Edward. He doesn’t speak, so don’t try to start any small talk with him, aight?” The fellow named John reached out his hand in return, ending the transaction in a handshake. The brothers, the sister, and Father Albert were soon at the entrance to the Church.

If only any of them knew what horrors they would find in the days to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heavy tw: body horror, death, etc etc.

“So, what exactly happened, sir?” 

Sister Mary from the covenant was called over by Father Albert to check on the man named John. Although she mainly dealt with what she called “inner issues,” she still had a basic understanding of wounds. However, a proper diagnosis was proving difficult. It took both her and another sister, Sister Clare, to simply restrain the frantic man.

“You wanna know, huh?” John snarled, “well, why don’t ya come a little closer so I can tell my story pressed against ya lips.” He broke out into another fit of laughter and also another fit of coughing. Sister Clare chuckled, tightening her grip on John’s long ginger hair. Sister Mary looked up at the young woman and gave her a concerned look. This was odd behavior for the usually timid sister. 

She probably was just nervous. Yes, nerves. Because who wouldn’t be?

Sister Mary finally found the spot where John was injured. It was on his left inner thigh, and it was absolutely atrocious. The wound spread down to his feet, where they appeared to be almost rotting. Up towards the source, a purple and...orange(?) boil was formed and actually appeared to be pulsating. No wonder the man was so frantic. The only way to fix the solution was to safely get rid of the boil. 

“Sister Clare,” she said, “please tie Sir John down to the chair. I require utmost competence during this procedure.” 

“Wait. PROCEDURE?” John yelled.

“By the sounds of it, yes,” Sister Clare replied. The nasally voice coming from the young woman made the man wince. “So, let me get that for you, Sister Mary,” she continued as she led to get the rope.

When she came back, the two women wasted no time in trying to hold the man down. Sister Mary already had her medical supplies laid out on a table (they were gifts given to her by Father Albert), so it wasn’t exactly difficult to choose what tool to use. She settled on a long thing needle that was normally used for nerve tests. After she wiped the needle down with alcohol, she told John, “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” before sticking the needle right into the boil.

Orange puss sprayed everywhere at the contact. Sister Clare, who was standing right next to the now screaming man, got the worst of it, receiving a face full of the puss. Oddly enough, the puss seemed to actually sizzle against the skin of the woman. She screeched as she panically attempted to wipe off the now dissolving liquid, revealing scorched and boiling skin underneath. 

That was only the beginning.

Sister Clare began to convulse rapidly. The habit she wore was knocked to the ground, revealing long black hair. 

“Mary,” she gurgled as she walked towards the shocked doctor, “help me.” Immediately after this, she stopped convulsing and jumped onto her fellow sister.

“CLARE! CLARE!” Mary yelled as she tried getting the sick sister off of her, “LET ME HELP YOU! PLEASE!” She began reaching for the needle frantically. 

The…thing that had taken the form of Sister Clare saw this. She nearly snapped her neck with how quickly she turned her head. Eyes locked on the entire table of tools, she began to vomit an oil-like substance all over it. Although she tried to get her hand off as quickly as possible, the oil was sticking itself to Mary’s hand. As she screamed, she saw Clare return to normal. Or what appeared to be normal.

Until she began taking off her clothes.

She strode over to the passed out John and woke him up with a light slap on the face. He was confused and startled, asking, “So, is the boil gone now?”

Clare giggled. “Oh honey,” she said as she slowly crept her fingers into the man’s mouth, “you shouldn’t be so fucking noisy.” And with a swift motion of her hand, she ripped the jaw off of John to a waterfall of blood and tissue.

“Clare.”

She turned around to see a pale and sickly Mary. The oil had been spreading from her arm to her entire body. Clare walked over to the woman, John’s jaw in hand, and knelt down.

“Mary Margaret Agana,” she replied, “you bitch.” That was the last thing she said before she collapsed, her eyes rolling behind her head and some final blood being choked out. 

Sister Mary began to cry. She was next, and only God knows who was about to be after her. She prayed for forgiveness and peace as she felt the last bit of energy that she had being drained from her body.


End file.
